I was a bit stumped on a blog name. Didn't want our last names or anything too sappy. Jim suggested I find something funny one of the kids had said. This prompted me to pull out the little notebook I keep in the kitchen to make note of such things (occupational hazard, I guess).
So I read lots of funny Ben quotes (got a lot more from him, obviously) and came across, "Mommy, I told you a million times 'NO BUNCHY POCKETS!" This was when he was in the throes of his most-insane clothes period (yeah, I know lots of kids have these sensory issues and, really, I did try to be accommodating when possible but in the moment -- when you're toddler is yelling, "my pants not working!" -- it all seems pretty insane).
He only wanted "super slick socks" and "fake-button pants," as non-slick socks and real buttons (and God forbid zippers or snaps) drove him crazy. So did tags. So I cut them out, of t-shirts, shorts and even from a pair of underwear -- while he was wearing it. That I neither drew blood nor ruined the underwear is probably one of my finest parenting accomplishments. I did not know about "bunchy pockets," however, until that morning when he came out of his room in a near fury. And even if I knew about this issue, how the heck was was I suppose to know if the shorts had pockets that bunched? It's not like I could try on a pair of size 5T and assess. Sheesh.
Jim often says that parenting makes him feel like his life is being run by small, crazy tyrants. Yeah, it's not a democracy around here, and we try hard to be the parents. But still the craziness often triumphs. And somehow "No Bunchy Pockets" just sums that up.
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